I am the jack of hearts and the ace of spade. Vulnerable to false starts and debts unpaid. I am the shadow of shadows, held in black. An icy finger running laps along your back. I hold the hand of fate, counting down from five. Feel my heart beat, know my thrive. I am the jack of spades and ace of hearts. Vulnerable to challenges and made roads a part.

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Trapped by Terror

The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debts do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly..., appealing. The person in whom it's invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level..., will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about the people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.